


Merry Christmas (I Could Care Less)

by selfawarealienintelligence



Series: Gav900 untitled youtube au [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Christmas, M/M, Model RK900, YouTuber Gavin, niles is Sad, parent mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 13:17:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17122100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selfawarealienintelligence/pseuds/selfawarealienintelligence
Summary: Niles is sprawled horizontally across Gavin's couch with his eyes closed, wearing one of Gavin's too-big-even-for-Niles hoodies, blasting music through his headphones so loud it can almost be heard from where Gavin is standing across the room.Gavin has noticed that these things individually, rare as they may be, indicate some level of emotional distress. Gavin has also noticed that Niles is pretty hard to shake, so these things together must mean nothing less than Armageddon.In which Niles is acting strange, and Gavin just wants to help.





	Merry Christmas (I Could Care Less)

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I've actually written for this au, and I'm not sure how much context you need but basically Gavin has a YouTube channel and Niles is an Instagram model. This is technically their second Christmas but it's the first one they get to spend together, but I'll save that for another fic ;)
> 
> Also maybe,,,,, follow my fandom twitter @femmeRK900

Gavin gets home, narrowly avoiding rush hour traffic, to find Niles in his living room. This isn't strange in itself, given that Niles has a key, but Gavin had not been told beforehand to expect him: Niles always makes sure his company is expected. The things Gavin notice next in quick succession make him pause in the doorway.

Niles is sprawled horizontally across Gavin's couch with his eyes closed, wearing one of Gavin's too-big-even-for-Niles hoodies, blasting music through his headphones so loud it can almost be heard from where Gavin is standing across the room.

Gavin has noticed that these things individually, rare as they may be, indicate some level of emotional distress. Gavin has also noticed that Niles is pretty hard to shake, so these things together must mean nothing less than Armageddon.

Roo must pick up on this too, because he's sitting on the kitchen counter, tail flicking back and forth. He doesn't even look over to greet Gavin - more evidence that the cat likes Niles more than the man who raised him, but they've got bigger problems to focus on right now.

Gavin approaches the couch and squats in front of it. He picks up Niles’ phone from where it rests against his stomach. It's playing a song by one of the shitty punk bands he made Niles listen to when they were still separated by time zones and video chats. He presses pause and sets the phone down on the coffee table behind him.

Niles opens his eyes and looks at him. His face gives nothing away, but something in his eyes makes Gavin frown.

“What's up?”

“Nothing,” he replies, casually removing his headphones like he wasn't just trying to deafen himself with shitty 2000’s punk music, but Gavin knows that tone of voice - it's the one he uses when he's having emotions he doesn't want to deal with and is trying to avoid talking about.

“Babe, come on. I know something's been bumming you out recently. What's going on?”

“It's really nothing. I've just been stressed and I needed a distraction.” Niles very pointedly avoids eye contact as he says it.

Bullshit. He sits on the open corner of the couch cushion by Niles' hip and tries again.

“Can I ask why you had to come all the way across town, to my apartment, for a distraction?”

He pouts and sits up, threading fingers through Gavin's hair. “I just wanted to see you, is that so abnormal?”

Gavin is so confused. “It's just that you usually call or text or something. You knew I was at work, right?”

“Is it so hard to believe I wanted to surprise you?”

Gavin stares, dumbfounded.

“Yes, actually.”

Niles rolls his eyes and stands. He moves to the kitchenette with more than his usual level of grace, but even from across the room Gavin can tell it looks forced. The line of his shoulders is tense, his footsteps heavier than normal. He pulls open the fridge, most likely to have something else to look at besides him. Roo darts out of the room to avoid the impending argument Gavin has been trying to avoid.

“Okay, fine,” Gavin sighs and stands, trailing after his boyfriend to rest his elbows on the counter that divides the room. “You're upset, I get that. You don't have to tell me. I just wish you wouldn't lie about it.”

Niles is suddenly very, very quiet, and very, very still.

Gavin huffs out a breath, and he's about to turn down the hallway to the studio when the voice speaks up behind him.

“I just don't like Christmas.”

It's mumbled, rushed out on a single breath, quiet enough to make him question if he heard correctly. But he looks over at Niles in front of the fridge, his shoulders barely curved forward, and Gavin's heart sinks in his ribcage.

“ _What?_ ” He doesn't mean to sound so harsh, but his disbelief tumbles out without his permission.

Niles closes the fridge and turns towards the counter, mirroring Gavin and leaning his elbows on it. He's avoiding eye contact, again, tracing the lines in the fake granite with the tip of his finger.

“My dad used to go all out for Christmas,” he starts, and _oh_ , this is one of those trusting, vulnerable moments they so rarely shared. “He would always find the biggest tree in the lot. Connor would help him decorate it. He would insist on organizing the ornaments by color, but Dad just put them up wherever.” Niles's smile was small and sad at the recollection. Gavin suddenly had a feeling he knew where this was going.

“Mom and I would string up lights through the whole house, and we would leave them on until new year's day. We turned off every other light in the house most nights because it felt more magical that way.” He's frowning now, and he even looks like he might cry, but before Gavin can ask questions he starts talking again.

“But then I wanted to go off and become a model, and when Mom and Dad thought it wasn't very practical, I moved out to LA. Connor went to art school and did his own thing back in Detroit, and when we fell out of touch I didn't have anyone to rely on except myself, just all of a sudden, Niles against the world.”

Gavin's stomach drops through the floor in the following silence. A collection of things about Niles suddenly start to make sense: he comes off as arrogant because he doesn't want to trust people; he doesn't celebrate birthdays or holidays because he doesn't know how to enjoy them by himself; when he sees Gavin or Connor or even Hank he grabs on, both physically and emotionally, because he's so fucking _lonely_.

“I get that,” Gavin says, because if he has to listen to Niles any longer he might have a breakdown of his own. “I lost traditions too. My grandma had this amazing recipe for homemade cinnamon rolls that we would make every Christmas eve. She gave it to me, but I've never been able to get it just right.” The corner of Niles's mouth lifts by a fraction of an inch, probably remembering the time Gavin burnt an omelette after claimed he “scrambled a mean egg.”

“When I dropped out of college, my dad thought I was crazy. Had a fit. Told me making stupid videos on the internet of myself playing video games was a stupid idea, and I'd never amount to anything. But look at me now,” he continues as he stands up straight and walks around the end of the counter. Niles finally looks him in the eye and straightens when Gavin stops next to him.

“I've got millions of fans, an apartment in LA, and a gorgeous boyfriend to top it all off.” He drags Niles in by the shoulders for a kiss, and when he's met half way he can feel a smile against his lips.

“We can make our own traditions, okay?”

Niles beams.

“Well, I'm sure I could help you figure out that cinnamon roll recipe without burning down the whole building…”

Gavin giggles, actually fucking giggles even though it's not that funny, and Niles joins in, and then he doubles over, and they both end up on the floor in the middle of the kitchenette trying to catch their breath.

Gavin's phone buzzes in his pocket. It's a text from Connor, asking if he's still playing Twilight Princess tonight because he left it at the office.  
He turns to Niles. “I've got a stream in an hour, if you want to join.”

Niles pauses and thinks it over. He's told Gavin in the past that he needs to be “in the right mood” to play video games with the knowledge that millions of people might be watching - he's good, sure, but the pressure still gets to him sometimes.

“Is it one of your holiday charity things?”

“No, those don't start until Monday, I won't make you come to any of those now that I know you're secretly the fucking Grinch.” His face hurts from all of the smiling he's been doing in the past few minutes.

“... I'll think about it.”

“Aww, babe, c'mon, please? You know the fans love you!” Niles hmmms, but Gavin knows he can win him over. “I'll let you play Assassin's Creed.”

“Aren't you in the middle of another Zelda playthrough? I know you hate to be interrupted.”

“I think I can make an exception for you this one time.”

Niles sighs like he's resigned to a terrible fate and says, “Sure, why the hell not.”

He's about to get up off the floor when he remembers something else.

“I still don't get why you didn't just come to the office.”

“I was on my way there, but I was going to explode if I saw another one of those wire deer with the lights, and your place was closer anyway.”

Gavin takes Niles’ hand, kisses his knuckles, and holds it against his chest.

“You are something else, babe.”

Niles joins his streams every night that week, just so he can finish the game, and when Gavin comes home on Monday there are lights strung through the whole apartment.


End file.
